A/N Thank you for all the reviews. I realize I am at over 80 reviews now. Yeah! I would be ecstatic if I can make it to 100! And yes, I am still looking for additional ideas.
This is a new installment. The theme here is brothers and is sort of a companion piece to the chapter four on sisters, especially the Ron/Ginny part, viewed from Ginny's POV this time.
Dedicated to all siblings out there whom we love dearly even if they drive us crazy sometimes.
Please read and review.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Brothers
Rose looked at the picture her mother had sent with her weekly letter. It was one that had been taken during the Christmas holiday and was a picture of her and Hugo. Hugo had somehow sprouted antlers out of his red hair and she had what looked like beaver teeth. They had fought like hippogriffs on that day. Hugo had teased her about her relationship with Scorpius and her healthy appetite. She had had called him an immature fifteen year old prat who was jealous because he had never had an actual girlfriend. He had blushed in real Weasley fashion and had gone on to make fun of her hair. Granted, there was a lot of bushiness there to make fun of but that still didn't give him the right. She had called him a freckled twat and had given him a pair of antlers. He had called her a bushy-haired stomach on feet and had hexed her with beaver teeth. Yes, that was her lovely little brother.
They had been about to continue their battle when Mum had appeared. They had instead ended up on the receiving end of a lecture on the improper use of magic and had had their wands confiscated for the rest of the holiday. They had also had to clean the entire house without magic. And Mum hadn't removed the hexes until the evening and after she had taken the photograph as a reminder as she had put it.
And Mum was writing about the picture, telling them they had to behave better and stop arguing all the time. Honestly, what did Mum expect? Mum had never had a little brother, had she? Hugo was her brother, Rose mused. Weren't they mandated to fight all the time? As she put her mother's letter down, she saw Hugo slowly come back to his senses. Madam Pomfrey had done a good job of limiting the injury but he still looked like someone who had been hit by a Bludger... as he actually had.
"Hey," he said as he saw Rose.
"Hey," Rose replied.
"What happened?" he asked as his scrunched his face while trying to remember.
"What do you remember?" she asked him softly.
"Quidditch match. You were about to score. And Smith sent a Bludger your way. It was about to hit you in the head.
"Yes, that's it. So instead, you thought it would be better to get hit yourself by the Bludger and moved between me and said Bludger."
"Did I pass out?" he asked anxiously.
"Oh yeah. Completely knocked out in the middle of the game."
"Did the entire school see?"
"Well, just the people watching the game, so yes, about the entire school."
"Bloody fucking hell," he swore. "Was Violet watching?"
"Yes, your would-be girlfriend was watching."
"Don't call her that."
"I would call her your girlfriend if you asked her out. I am sure she would love to go out with you."
"You think so?"
"Merlin, for someone so intelligent, you can be thick Hugo. Of course, she wants to."
He seemed discomfited by this.
"And now, I have made an idiot of myself by passing out in front of the entire school."
"Not anymore than usual, twat" Rose cheeked back.
"Shut it, bushy-haired stomach on feet."
She remained quiet for a minute, something unusual for her. She was mulling her Mum's letter and what her little brother had done to protect her. Finally, she spoke quietly.
"You know, you didn't have to take this Bludger for me. Although that kind of makes you look like a hero, especially to would-be girlfriends. But thank you."
He smiled at her.
"That's what brothers are for."
That was it. He had made his decision. Regulus Black stood up and paced his room, reconciling himself with his choice. It was difficult as he had always been the loyal son, the one to walk in the path that had been clearly traced for him. The diametric opposite of Sirius. He took the photo of his older brother, the photo he secretly kept in the drawer of his desk. Their mother had removed any other picture of Sirius since he had run away.
Regulus looked at the features of his brother who was smiling back at him with an arrogant disarming grin. Sirius and he looked alike but Sirius had always been better looking than him with his natural haughty good looks. He was truly handsome. Regulus remembered how they had played and argued together when they had been boys, so close in age and appearance, and yet so apart in character. Naturally gifted, Sirius had been nonchalant about academic work when Regulus had always had to work hard to obtain the good marks they parents demanded. Sirius had been self-confident, always happy to be in the spotlight and advertise his difference, when Regulus had lacked this assurance and preferred to stay in the background and just be a good son.
Sirius had broken their mother's heart by always seeking to distance himself from being a Black instead of being proud of it like the rest of them. Sirius had been sorted in Gryffindor, and had made friends with blood traitors like Potter and mudbloods like Evans. Sirius had openly denounced pure blood supremacy and had tried to warn him, Regulus, against Voldemort. As Regulus called Kreacher to him to prepare for what he knew to most certainly be his death, he wished he had listened to his only brother and could have had a chance to say good bye to him.
The Gryffindor common room was subdued at this late hour. There were only a few seventh-year students left, studying. Ginny looked at her friend across the table. Hermione was looking longingly at something in one of her books. While it was very much like Hermione to get lost in a book, the look of longing told Ginny there was more. Before Hermione had a chance to realise what was happening, Ginny reached across the table and seized the book. As she looked down at the book, she came face to face with hair as red as hers, a familiar lopsided grin, and blue eyes she knew all too well. Ron was smiling back at her from the confine of the photo.
Ginny looked back up at Hermione who incidentally looked quite poised to hex her into oblivion. She handed her back the book and the picture before declaring:
"Hermione, this is quite sick how Ron and you are looking at each other."
"And you're not looking at Harry the same way?" Hermione countered.
"Well, maybe, but Harry isn't my brother."
"He is like one to me."
"Alright, what is it you find in Ron?"
"He is funny," Hermione started.
"Yes, hilarious, especially when he gets overprotective and barges on me and Harry while we're snogging," snorted Ginny.
"He is intelligent," Hermione pursued.
"Obviously you didn't grow up sitting at the dinner table with him and the twins having pea snorting contests," Ginny retorted.
"Look at him," Hermione said while pointing at the picture, "he is an attractive man. Look at his hair, his eyes."
"And I thought Harry was the one with bad eyesight," Ginny sighed humourously.
Hermione ignored her and carried on:
"He is courageous and chivalrous and..."
"Alright, stop it," Ginny interrupted with a hand up in the air. "Stop it or I may vomit. He is my brother. My very overprotective brother and I have to believe he's a git, on principle, you know."
"But you still love him, don't you," Hermione added with a mischievous smile.
"I guess I do love the prat, yes," Ginny relented. "It's just the way you look at each other. It's a bit much at times."
Hermione blushed lightly.
"We went through a lot together. I am lucky to be alive and have him," she murmured.
Ginny turned serious and reached for her hand. She spoke earnestly:
"And he is lucky to have you. Now let me tell you about the pea snorting contests. That really drove Mum completely mad..."
Hermione smiled as Ginny started recounting about growing up at the Burrow with seven brothers. They were lucky indeed.
A/N Here you are. Let me know what you think... Reviews are wonderful you know.